


i will rearrange the stars (pull them down to where you are)

by 26stars



Series: Fall Prompts 2020 [6]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/F, Marvel Femslash Bingo 2020, Nobility!Jemma, Staff!Daisy, Teen!Skimmons, Young Love, idk if medieval but they live in a castle so..., secret meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26744767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/26stars/pseuds/26stars
Summary: Daisy's job is to be invisible--it means more to her than anything that the young Lady has noticed her at all.For the fall prompt: "Skimmons+Light" and my Femslash Bingo square "Forbidden love"Title from "Light" by Sleeping at Last
Relationships: Jemma Simmons/Skye | Daisy Johnson
Series: Fall Prompts 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931209
Comments: 10
Kudos: 40
Collections: Femslash Bingo, Women of the MCU





	i will rearrange the stars (pull them down to where you are)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TomatoBookworm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomatoBookworm/gifts).



> I've been wanting to do a Royalty AU for a bit, and this is my first try at something like it. Thanks for being the reason for it, Tomato! Happy Mid-Autumn Festival!

Daisy finished hauling up the bucket of water and leaned over the well to grab it, pulling it to the edge until she could dump its contents into her larger buckets on the ground beside her. As long as she didn’t spill too much on her way back into the castle, it should be her last trip to the well for the evening. The dishes had been washed, the floors had been cleaned, and all that was left that needed bucket was water for everyone’s nighttime washing. Of course, she’d be up again before dawn to start everything all over again, but for now, as the late-summer sun dipped below the treetops and painted the sky gold, Daisy allowed herself not to think about that.

As she made her way back up the footpath towards the castle, the heavy yoke over her shoulders, hands bracing both dangling buckets to keep the water from sloshing, she glanced up at a particular window out of habit.

A single light burned there, set out for the world to see.

Daisy smiled, her heart leaping, and continued her careful walk.

Back in the kitchens, she poured the water into the large pot ready to be swung over the fire, moved it over the flames, and hung her buckets near the door. The head kitchen maid unnecessarily reminded her to get to work sweeping and then scouring the floor, which Daisy was already doing, eager to finish the last of her tasks as quickly as possible. When the water boiled a few minutes later, she ladled it out to fill the pitchers waiting on the kitchen table, and the ladies' maids and footmen swept in to carry them upstairs as the lords and ladies prepared for bed.

Daisy was not allowed upstairs. She was a scullery maid—her work was always brought down to her, and she was always to do it out of sight. Scrubbing, boiling, cutting, washing—whatever she did, she was to be invisible.

Which made it all the more remarkable that she had been seen and sought by anyone upstairs at all.

After boiling the water for the night’s washing, she received any clothes from the people upstairs that had been soiled throughout the day and needed to be washed immediately. One of the children’s outfits, one of the Lord’s pairs of pantaloons, some of the ladies’ undergarments…

Laundry was a mindless routine—Daisy had been doing it on her own since she was five. While the water boiled again, she peeled and sliced potatoes for the next morning’s breakfast, set the beans soaking for the next evening’s dinner, and then got to work with her washboard and lye soap on the laundry. After everything had been scrubbed into submission and was hung to dry in front of the kitchen fire (it could be moved outdoors in the morning), Daisy checked in with the kitchen maid to see if there was anything else to be done—Rosalind could always come up with something…

“No, you just make me a cuppa, and then off to bed with you,” the woman said, waving her off when Daisy asked. The older woman was sprawled in a chair by the kitchen fire and already had her feet up on a stool—possibly her first time sitting down since dawn.

Trying not to let her enthusiasm show, Daisy quickly boiled more water, prepared the drink that Rosalind liked best, and once it had been presented with the amount of humility Ros expected of her, Daisy all but raced out of the kitchen before the woman could think of anything else for her to do.

Down in the servant’s quarters, Daisy prepared for bed, hanging up her daily dress and apron where the other women would surely see it, then drew the ratty curtain around her bed while she bundled into her coat over her undergarments. Anyone who caught her going out would assume she was going to the servant’s water closet outside, a cover story that had worked perfectly so far on all these secret meetings.

In the back garden however, Daisy veered away from the outhouse and snuck out through the inner wall via a gate that the staff were supposed to use—a well-concealed space back behind the barn.

And on the other side in the moonlight, she found her.

Lady Jemma was standing against the wall in the limited cover afforded by a shadow from one of the towers, but she immediately stepped out as Daisy emerged.

“Evening,” the young lady whispered, rushing to Daisy and catching her hand. “Let’s go.”

They raced through the dark together hand in hand, bound for the small garden where a few trees would give them some semblance of privacy. Daisy’s stomach fluttered with anticipation as they hurried into the shadows of the old, gnarled oaks, and once they arrived at the tree that they had once designated as _theirs_ , Jemma turned to her and caught Daisy in a tight hug.

“I thought you’d never come…” she whispered, and Daisy held her back as if one embrace could join their souls.

“I came as quickly as I could,” she assured her, though she knew exactly what Jemma was feeling. It could have been one minute or a hundred that Jemma stood in the moonlight waiting for her, but it wouldn’t have mattered—waiting for the one your heart desired always felt like an eternity.


End file.
